


Novam Domum

by admiralty



Series: The X-Files: Season 12 [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case Fic, Episode: s04e02 Home, F/M, MSR, Post-Canon, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 05:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty
Summary: Season premiere. Scully and Mulder are back together with a new baby on the way. But just as they’ve settled again into their home, some old adversaries reappear, searching for a home of their own.(If you'd like an audio version of this story, pleaseclick here.)





	1. Act One

COLD OPEN

NATIONAL MALL

WASHINGTON, D.C.

APRIL 29, 2018 

9:21 PM

Lightning streaked across the sky like a spiderweb, adhering the heavens to the earth amidst a torrent of black, rain-soaked atmosphere. The booming thunder followed, overwrought, as if the baying of a hound would most certainly be next.

The young man pulled away from the kiss of his female companion, grabbed her hand, and tore across the lawn. The storm had come on as suddenly as their passion, and as much as he disapproved of stopping, he’d spent over a hundred bucks on this shirt and felt the wisest course of action was getting under cover as soon as possible. 

They ran, exposed, the rain drenching them to the bone, and just as he was about to surrender the shirt to another makeout session in resignation, his foot gave way to the nothing beneath it as he fell into a substantial ditch. He let go of her hand as he stumbled and the crack of his ankle snapping pierced his ears. A scream tore from his lungs, echoing across the lawn of the Mall, and he was certain the President could hear him all the way over on Pennsylvania Avenue.

“Josh! Are you okay?” she asked him. He couldn’t move, the pain radiating within his foot unlike anything he’d felt before.

“What the hell is this hole doing here?!” he asked no one in particular, his voice laced with anger: anger at himself for tripping but mostly at the unjust nature of the very existence of this ditch. It was rectangular in shape, alarmingly grave-sized, and abutted a dirt path that was slowly turning into mud. He looked up to her in confusion.

It was dark out, but the lamps along the mall lit up her face as rain streamed down her cheeks, and as she looked past him into the night he saw a look of horror paint her features. They’d only just met, and nothing in the past couple of minutes had gone as planned, but he knew something was truly and terribly wrong.

He turned, using every bit of his strength to try to ignore the pain and swivel his head to see the source of her terror. Behind him on the path there stood two dark figures: what appeared to be an enormous man in silhouette, and a much younger woman. They were filthy and their features were muddied, but as they drew nearer he realized the muddiness was not only caused by the weather, but stemmed from their genes. 

The man looked like pure Neanderthal, with lumpy bone growths on his face and a dead-eyed stare: teeth sticking out in places they shouldn’t. He lumbered forward and extended his arm, propping up an enormous shovel. 

The other figure was a woman who appeared just as hideous but smaller in stature. She came around the behemoth and stood still in front of him. 

And at their feet lay a corpse.

At least, what appeared to be part of a corpse. The body looked frail, and he could see no arms or legs. The face was malformed and the hair was stringy and grey, but it must have been a woman, he surmised, from her floral nightdress. A very old woman.

What the hell were these people thinking? _ If I can call them people, _he thought. He immediately felt guilty about his snap judgment but, then again, they were the ones having some kind of impromptu burial in the middle of the National Mall at midnight.

Suddenly, the big man dropped the shovel and lunged at his date. She screamed and ran away, and as the beast followed he knew in his gut she didn’t stand a chance against the enormous creature. A cold chill went through his body as he knew he wouldn’t either.

The woman bent down to pick up the shovel the large man had dropped, and she approached Josh, helpless in the ditch. She dragged the shovel behind her and it scraped along the path, coming closer and closer to him.

_ *scraaaaaaape* _

The cries of his date were receding in the distance. “Please, don’t,” was all he could think to say to the woman. Don’t… what, he wasn’t exactly sure. He didn’t know what he was expecting the woman to say; honestly, he wasn’t even sure these people could speak. _ People _ , he thought bitterly. He now knew they weren’t people. They were animals. _ Monsters. _

As she drew closer to his face, he could see she was in fact quite young, barely an adult. He heard grunting as her enormous companion returned, the screams of his date having fallen silent. 

The woman crouched down in front of him as she handed the big man the shovel. He had forgotten the pain in his foot by now, and he closed his eyes, wincing, waiting for the inevitable blow. He heard her breathing but it sounded more like snarling, raspy sounds, like when his dog would come close and breathe into his face.

But then he looked into her eyes and saw something he didn’t expect. It wasn’t brute force, or merely animal instinct. It was cold, calculating. It was intelligence. 

He didn’t know what to make of any of it. The last thing he saw was her companion raising the shovel, another flash of lightning, then everything went black.

***TITLE SEQUENCE***

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ACT ONE

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

SCIENTIFIC RESPONSE AND ANALYSIS LABORATORY

12 HOURS EARLIER

Dr. Dana Scully touched the end of the small but growing ponytail that curled around her neck as she waited in the autopsy bay. Under the glaring lights that illuminated toe tags and dead bodies she felt oddly at ease: a doctor. A scientist. An investigator. Forensic pathology was her milieu, the day to day routine comfortable. And it felt good to be, in a way, home again.

Her assistant Janine entered with a gurney, flanked by a dozen new trainees who were scheduled to observe the autopsy. The small size of the body was apparent, even concealed by the medical tarp. Cognizant of the impact seeing a dead child on their first day in the lab would undoubtedly have on new students, Scully hesitated. She touched her assistant’s arm and leaned into her ear.

“I think I should handle this one without the class present,” she said, and the woman nodded, looking at her wearily.

Scully dismissed them, to the delight of some and the dismay of others. As the trainees trickled out of the bay she turned her back to the door and was about to lift the sheet.

“Would you mind if I stayed?” a voice came from behind her. She whipped around and saw that a young woman holding an iPad had remained behind, a backpack on her shoulders, hair pulled into a ponytail, an eager look in her eyes.

“It might be best not to see this on your first day in the lab,” Scully said.

“I want to work in forensic pathology. I think if I’m entering this field, I have to, Dr. Scully,” she countered. Scully liked her already. Was she becoming soft in her older age?

“Okay, I just need you to prepare yourself. These can be… difficult,” she said. She still found this part hard, with a quarter century of experience behind her. “What’s your name?”

The girl’s eyes flickered down to the gurney, then back up to Scully. “Um. Karen.”

“Karen, would you mind giving me a hand with this, then?”

Karen removed her backpack, put the iPad down and walked to the other side of the gurney. Scully instructed her to hold the sheet up, then picked up a camera on the counter behind her, bringing it up to look into the lens.

It was indeed an infant. But something was alarmingly, terrifyingly familiar. She slowly lowered the camera and spoke without taking her eyes off the corpse.

“Janine?” she asked the medical assistant. “Where did you say this body came from?”

***

_ Professor Fox Mulder. _

He liked the sound of that. It was much better than ‘Spooky Mulder,’ anyway. 

Teaching profiling had been good to him so far. He was returning to his roots, in a way, although he wasn’t quite able to leave the “spooky” part of him behind entirely. But rather than a cavalcade of peers who rolled their eyes and scoffed, his newest audience was a group of young, eager students. It could have been a product of the times, but he’d noticed this new generation was far more willing to believe in the impossible, to accept the unacceptable. With the hopelessness that seemed to permeate daily life in the country and all around the world, it was refreshing. 

He sat in his office and glanced at the clock, expecting Scully any minute. They usually had a late breakfast together after his morning class, at least whenever she could get away. Just as his stomach was grumbling to start without her, there was a quick knock and she peeked in.

“Morning, Professor,” she smiled.

“What’s up, Doc?” he replied. She entered and sat down across from him, setting a file on the desk. He opened up a bag on the table, setting her bagel and cream cheese in front of her.

“Thank you, I’m starving.”

“It’s real cream cheese, by the way,” he noted.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Your life or mine?” he winked, knowing how much a pregnant Scully needed her real cream cheese. She smiled and began to spread her bagel.

“What have you got there?” he asked, glancing towards the file and taking a bite of his breakfast burrito.

“Take a look,” she said. He reached over and flipped the file open. He made a face and stopped chewing. 

“Sorry,” she grimaced. “Maybe you should finish eating first.”

“This isn’t what I think it is, is it?” he said immediately. 

She nodded. “The defects are the same autosomal dominant disorders we found last time. The Peacocks.”

“Who found the body?”

“Hitchhiker stumbled across it, sorry to say.”

He flipped through the file. “Where was this?”

She sighed. “Not far from here. Silver Spring.”

He looked up. “That’s hitting a bit close to home, wouldn’t you say?” he asked. “What are they doing out here?”

She shrugged. “Skinner was the one who sent the body to Quantico. He recognized the defects.” She looked at him. “Mulder, he wants us to help.”

“Us?” Mulder asked. “What can we do? We aren’t field agents anymore.”

“The local P.D. is on it, but he wants the bureau involved in a _ research capacity _,” she grinned, making air quotes.

“‘Research?’ Really?” Mulder shook his head. “They just don’t want to admit they need an X Files unit. It’s infuriating.”

“This isn’t an X File,” she reasoned. Mulder breathed a heavy sigh in acceptance. “Skinner isn’t the one who shut us down, Mulder,” she reminded him. “That was Kersh. And he’s out of our hair now.” 

Kersh had retired right along with the X Files and had recommended recently-recovered Skinner to replace him. After so many years of driving Kersh up the wall, Mulder couldn’t help but wonder if it had really been mere coincidence. 

Mulder looked thoughtful for a moment, then sighed. “In any event, the X Files are closed. Not just for the FBI, but for me.” He looked at her meaningfully. “You and the little uber-Scully are my life now.”

She smiled. “I know that, Mulder. You don’t have to say no to this to convince me.” He stood and walked around the desk to sit on the edge of it, next to her. “But he wants our expertise, our insight,” she continued. “And I really think we should do it.”

He looked at her closely. “Are you sure, Scully?” he asked. “I don’t want to do anything if you’re feeling pressured or bullied. I’m leaving this one entirely up to you.”

“I’m not feeling pressured. I feel strongly about this case.”

“Why this one?”

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I know this sounds strange, but… I feel somewhat of a personal connection. These babies, Mulder…” she trailed off and looked at him, her thoughts certainly drifting back to Home, Pennsylvania. He knew what she was communicating, even though she wasn’t really saying it. The discarding of these children affected her in a way he understood completely. 

“Did I ever tell you what Mrs. Peacock said to me when we were alone in that house?” she asked him quietly.

He shook his head. Just then there was a knock at the door. Mulder held a finger up, _ hold that thought _, and went to open it.

A female police officer stood before them. She had dark skin and familiar brown eyes that were kind and welcoming. Her name tag read “Sheriff Taylor.” 

“Hi… are you Agents Mulder and Scully?”

Mulder turned to look at Scully. “That’s us, although you can drop the ‘agent’ part,” Scully replied.

"My name is Elise Taylor, I believe you two knew my uncle from a case over twenty years ago? Home, Pennsylvania…?”

Scully stood and crossed the room to shake her hand. “We were just discussing it, actually,” she said to the young woman. “Seems like the case is alive again.”

“I didn’t realize Sheriff Taylor had a niece,” Mulder said, then realized how silly it was for him to have said such a thing. What did they really know about the personal details of the people who threaded in and out of their lives?

“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but I could use your help,” she said. “I’m with the Lexington Police Department. Your director told me where to find you.” Her face hardened. “This isn’t my jurisdiction, but I’m determined to find and catch the people who murdered my family.” 

“How did you learn the case was open again, Sheriff?” Scully asked.

“It’s not often a corpse is found matching the description of the one my uncle discovered all those years ago,” she admitted. “Word gets around.”

Scully sat back down. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you learn about everything that happened back in Home?”

“My mother told me what happened, but… we never really knew the details. When I became a police officer the first thing I did was search for those crime scene photos.” Sheriff Taylor stopped, closed her eyes. “I wish I hadn’t.”

Mulder felt a pang of sympathy for the young woman. He and Scully had certainly seen their fair share of horrific crime scenes, but the brutal murders of Sheriff Andy Taylor and his wife were among the very worst. 

An image of their bloody, beaten bodies suddenly entered his mind in a way it hadn’t at the time: he found himself picturing Scully instead. An understanding came over him, a fear that he could share with the young sheriff. 

“Anyway, I was able to access the full file when I ranked. I found your names attached to the case and… well, they’ve been stuck in my head for years. It hasn’t been until now that I’ve been in a position to actually follow up with you two.”

“Could Mrs. Peacock really still be alive in her condition?” Mulder turned to Scully. “And having children? In her sixties?”

Scully raised an eyebrow. He put a hand up, acquiescing in silence.

“We can go to the crime scene now, Mulder,” she said to him, eyebrow raised. “We have clearance from Skinner.”

“I have a class at three,” Mulder warned.

“Well then, we’d better hurry, Professor,” she said, taking his jacket off the back of his chair and handing it to him as the three of them left together.


	2. Act Two

ACT TWO

  
  
  


The sky was ominous, the heavy gray clouds threatening and malevolent. It felt appropriate for this kind of crime scene.

Scully approached the side of the road with some hesitation, not expecting to find anyone around but considering the possibility. It appeared from the tire tracks on the ground that a car had skidded to a stop, maybe even hitting a tree. A second set of tracks indicated the car had left in a hurry.

Mulder and Sheriff Taylor were bent down within a crime scene tape barrier that surrounded a tiny grave, the very worst kind of excavation. As Scully crouched down next to them to inspect it, a predictable flutter of maternal empathy came over her. 

“You autopsied the body?” Taylor asked her. 

Scully nodded. “The defects were strikingly similar. You don’t forget a case like that one. I’d bet good money it’s the Peacocks.”

Mulder looked at her for a moment, then down at the ground behind her. Noticing something, he eased around her. “I’ll raise that bet, Scully. Check this out.”

There was a small ditch between the road and the wooded area that stretched out beyond it. A trail of blood appeared to lead from the ditch back into the woods. Scully followed him carefully, hoping the trail wouldn’t lead them too far from the road. But after only a minute or so he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Scully.”

She looked where he was pointing and saw where the trail ended: an enormous puddle of blood near a large oak tree. Strewn to the side was a pile of organic matter that was unmistakably afterbirth.

“Whoever gave birth here has lost far too much blood,” Scully pointed out. “Wherever she is… she’s either dead or in serious need of medical attention.”

Taylor approached holding an evidence bag. “We found a piece of a headlight that must have broken off. Looks like they took off but weren’t so great with the cleanup, lucky for us.” She pulled out her radio. “I’m going to put an APB out for the Peacocks,” she announced, and wandered back towards the road.

Scully stood and stared at the bloody scene. Mulder moved next to her, concerned, and his hand drifted to her lower back.

“You okay?” he asked her.

“This child was born right here, Mulder,” she breathed, letting it in. “The same place it died.”

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The ‘58 Cadillac sped down a country road, the engine sputtering fumes of protest. This was the latest in a long line of abandoned cars they’d picked up off various shoulders of various roads. 

Seventeen year old Daisy Peacock stepped on the gas but wasn’t certain where she was headed. The radio blasted Del Shannon and she rolled her window down. The smell inside the car was awful.

_ I'm a-walkin' in the rain _

_ Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain _

_ Wishin' you were here by me _

_ To end this misery _

Edmund Peacock sat stoic in the front seat, staring straight ahead, not saying anything. He never said anything. And her mother laid in back, blood slick down her thighs, screaming not out of pain but of rage. The noise was akin to the whinnying of a horse, or cattle being zapped. All she wanted was to make the sound stop the way Father would when the babies came out all wrong. 

Waiting was her only option. Mother wasn’t long for this world, anyway. 

_ I wonder _

_ I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder _

_ Why _

_ Why, why, why, why, why _

_ She ran away _

“Sherman and George were such good boys…” Mother was whimpering. “Such good boys, and here we are, stuck with the likes of you.”

The car smelled like imminent, inescapable death. Soon it would be just her and Father. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“You’re good for nothin’,” Mother said. “Can’t even have no children. Our family’s gonna die here and now, thanks to you.”

_ And I wonder _

_ Where she will stay _

_ My little runaway _

Daisy gripped the wheel and drove ahead. Forward was all she knew.

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


Their unremarkable house was just as unremarkable as it needed to be. When they’d first moved in years ago, they’d chosen the place out of necessity; Mulder’s fugitive status had been worrisome at best, downright terrifying at worst. Farr’s Corner was well off the beaten path, and years after they’d moved in Scully had confessed to him that she wasn’t worried the FBI was after him anymore. She’d long suspected they were just grateful to be rid of him and she’d been right, as time bore out.

But the circumstance had resulted in a scenario he found completely satisfactory. He hadn’t lied twenty years ago when he’d told Scully he’d wanted to settle down in a place just like Home, Pennsylvania. It was exactly what he’d wanted, and he was able to have it with her, at least for a while.

When they’d separated, life had been impossible. But he didn’t think about the years they’d spent apart from each other, not anymore. He was certain now, more certain than he’d ever been, that they were going to make it this time.

Scully finished drying the last of the dishes from the dinner Mulder had graciously offered to make earlier in the evening. He’d learned to cook over the past couple of years as part of his ‘evolution,’ and Scully had been impressed, so much so that he cooked whenever he could. Impressing Scully was his very favorite activity.

“I got the DNA typing on the infant back from the crime lab, by the way,” she said as she plunked down onto the couch next to him.

“And?”

“What do you think?” she asked with a smirk.

“I think it must be the Peacocks, from that look on your face.”

“I should have actually bet you something,” she sighed. “I’d be cashing in about now.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too disappointed about that, Scully,” he grinned, putting his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. “You always cash in at some point.”

She sighed into his shoulder, breathing him in. They didn’t say anything more and he didn’t mind. He loved this part; when they could just  _ be _ together. Time would stop and all the chaos around them didn’t seem to matter in these moments when everything was finally, blissfully calm.

A  _ thump _ came from upstairs as the familiar clatter of doggy nails trickled down the stairs, and Daggoo jumped up onto the couch, wanting in on this. He always sensed their contentment; the dog seemed to share some kind of fine-tuned nexus with the two of them. He snuggled against Scully’s thigh and she scratched behind his ears. 

After a couple of minutes she spoke again. “It feels so good to be home again, I really need you to know that.”

“It wasn’t home when you weren’t around, Scully,” he said in reply. 

She nodded. “I can’t stop thinking about that child, though. The tragedy of being born only to die. It’s unfathomably cruel.”

He sighed. “Don’t do that to yourself, Scully.” They had so much to live for, after everything: all the trauma and horror they’d gone through themselves. He didn’t want a second more of her life to be spent torturing herself about anything. 

She rested her head in the crook of his neck. “Do you remember what you said to me all those years ago in Home? You said you never pictured me as a mother.”

“That isn’t exactly what I said,” he corrected her. “I said I never saw you as a mother  _ before. _ You’d never mentioned wanting kids, at least not to me. I felt like I was seeing you in an entirely new light.”

“And now? How do you see me now?”

He closed his eyes and wondered. He’d seen her so many ways over the past twenty five years, it was difficult to pin her down as one thing. Partner. Friend. Confidant. Lover. Other half.

_ Mother. _

“It only took a moment, Scully, when I saw you holding William. You were a mother,” he declared. “You  _ are _ a mother.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Are you scared, Mulder?”

“Of what?”

She sighed. “Of becoming a parent again.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Maybe I should be, but I’m not,” he admitted. “You and I can get through anything, Scully.”

“Is there anything we haven’t been through already?” she asked, and he knew she was joking, but it didn’t make her sentiment less true. It was oddly comforting that there really wasn’t anything left they hadn’t already overcome.

“Are you scared?” he asked her. She was quiet for a while, perhaps unsure how to respond.

“I’m happy, Mulder,” she finally said. “And I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

He knew what she meant, and although they discussed William more openly now it might never stop the ache deep inside either of them. 

It had been a few short weeks since they’d last seen their son. Mulder’s memories of that fateful night were so tumultuous, he often revisited it in his mind to attempt to make sense of it. After he’d seen his son shot and watched him fall into the dark water below, there had been an explosion of some kind near the docks. He and Scully had realized Jackson must have used his powers to turn CGB Spender’s body into an unrecognizable mess.  _ Perhaps Jackson was finishing the job _ , he’d wondered with a smile.

They could never be truly certain, but they’d left the dock that night with renewed hope that he was indeed alive, and out there somewhere.

“He would want you to be happy,” Mulder said. “You may not have been able to be a mother to Jackson, but you were a great mother to William. I know you were.” He hadn’t been there for any of it, so he hoped she would believe him when he said this. But he didn’t need to have been there to know Scully had poured her heart and soul into that child. When Scully loved, it was all-consuming. It was a warm hug at the edge of an icy crater. It was her hand against his bleeding chest on cold tile floor, the only thing between his life and his death. She loved as relentlessly as he searched for truth. 

“I worry I’ll never be good enough for this baby, Mulder,” she said. She’d revealed her regrets about failing William to him in that church and he knew it still pained her. He considered it an injustice that she could ever feel this way.

Mulder moved to kiss her forehead. “Dana Katherine Scully,” he said softly. “You are the most generous, amazing, wonderful person I’ve ever known. And our baby is going to be the luckiest kid on the planet to have you for a mother.”

She tilted her head up, eyes wet. He would never learn every truth he’d ever sought, but this was the only one that mattered, and her eyes told him she’d needed to hear it.

“Thank you,” she said. And, for good measure, “You’re going to be an excellent father, Fox Mulder.”

He smiled and kissed her then, reveling in the simplicity he’d longed for so long ago while standing on a sandlot in Home, Pennsylvania. It was a miracle in and of itself that they’d found it somehow, here together. 

He’d intended the kiss to be short and sweet, but it seemed at their ripe ages they were incapable of wasting any opportunity presented to them. Daggoo, as always, sensed the mood shift and barked in protest as Mulder swatted him off the couch. Scully turned to face him with her hands on his neck and her legs straddling his lap, and just as their kiss had pivoted into “point of no return” territory the most unwelcome sound of his cell phone ringing pierced the room.

“Shit,” he grumbled into her mouth. 

She laughed. “Of course.”

He held her by her back as he leaned over to grab the phone off the coffee table, and what he saw was enough to stop any passion in its tracks.

“There’s been another murder. At the National Mall, of all places,” he said, surprised. “And it appears they’ve found Mrs. Peacock as well.”


	3. Act Three

ACT THREE

  
  
  


NATIONAL MALL

WASHINGTON, D.C.

APRIL 29, 2018 

11:19 PM

There’d been more rain than usual for this time of year in the DC area, and it was making the crime scene muddy and hard to access. But the local PD was making quick work of it, as the mall would surely be flooded with locals and tourists alike in a matter of hours.

Scully pulled the hood of her raincoat over her head and got out of the car. She opened the umbrella and awkwardly held it up high above Mulder’s head as they approached the crime scene. He took it from her hand and held it himself, alleviating her discomfort, and she smiled. Same routine, different day. 

“You the FBI agents?” a cop asked as they approached. 

“Yes, well… yes,” Mulder said, finding no need to clarify. Skinner had cleared them ahead of time.

“Never seen a damn thing like it,” he said, scratching his head. “Right in the mall, such a public place. The director from the bureau called me up, said this was connected to the infanticide from this morning. You got any light on this?”

Mulder nodded. “The female victim apparently matches the description of a suspect in a cold case from a couple decades ago,” he explained. “And you’re right,” he added, surveying the area. “This is not an ideal spot for burying a body.”

Scully crouched down and saw a large, grave-sized hole in the ground. Next to it was a shovel, covered in blood. And next to that, the corpse of a young man. His face was nearly unrecognizable from having been bashed in.

“Seems like whoever it was wasn’t interested in hiding anything,” Mulder pointed out. “Murder weapon left behind. Extremely careless.”

“Cause of death is pretty clear,” Scully added. “And we know the Peacocks have never been very concerned about leaving behind evidence.”

“My guys got the other body out of here right quick,” the cop said. “She was in pretty bad shape.”

“Worse than this?” Scully muttered to Mulder, indicating the newly faceless victim at their feet.

“She was buried in the grave. We figure she was probably already dead and this guy here interrupted the burial,” the cop explained. “But that’s all speculation. You’ll definitely want to take a look at the other victim. She’s… something else.”

If it had indeed been Mrs. Peacock in that grave, Scully knew that was an understatement. She thanked the cop and he wandered off to shoo away some curious late-night onlookers.

She turned to Mulder. “It’s been twenty years,” she said, incredulously. “What have they been doing all this time? And why were they here, now?”

He shook his head. “More to the point, how many more dead infants in ditches are out there to find?”

“This seems like an act of desperation to me. Say Mrs. Peacock died, somehow… perhaps after childbirth? Edmund would need to get rid of her body. Maybe he just happened to be in the area. Unless the National Mall has some significance.”

“Their ancestors fought in the Civil War, right?” he asked thoughtfully. “Maybe it does have significance.”

“Right, the, uh… ‘War of Northern Aggression,’ I believe she called it,” she smirked. “But out here like this? So out in the open? I know Edmund Peacock isn’t the brightest bulb, but… this is particularly brazen.”

“From what we’ve seen, the Peacocks aren’t exactly concerned with the long game, Scully. Their interest is singular: survival.”

Just then, Sheriff Taylor arrived. “Is it true?” she asked. “Is it Mrs. Peacock they found?”

“We need to verify the identity of the body, but… yes. We think so,” Scully said.

“I’ll take that headlight in tomorrow, run it through the system to see if we can find the make and model of the car,” Taylor said. 

The cop returned. “One of you want to interview the eyewitness? She’s over at George Washington University.”

“There was an eyewitness?” Scully asked.

“Uh huh. She’s the one who called this in. Said she saw the whole thing.”

Mulder perked up. “Well, that’ll be helpful.” He looked at Scully. “First thing in the morning I’m gonna head over to the hospital and have a chat with our eyewitness. Care to do some more slicing and dicing, Scully?”

She sighed, and although she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Mrs. Peacock again, dead or alive, murmured in acquiescence. “When do I not?”

  
  
  
  
  


GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL

WASHINGTON, D.C.

9:39 AM

Mulder entered the hospital room to see a young woman in her early twenties. She was propped up in bed with a straw in her mouth, watching television. She chewed the bright pink plastic tube anxiously as he entered.

“Excuse me, Nicole?” he asked with a soft knock.

“Yeah?” She turned to look at him and he could see her face was covered in bruises, and her left arm was in a sling.

“I’m Fox Mulder, I work for the FBI. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about last night.” She nodded slightly and he pulled up a chair next to her.

“I’m very sorry about your… boyfriend,” he offered gently. 

“He wasn’t my boyfriend. It was our first date,” she clarified, sounding exhausted. “But he was nice. He didn't deserve this.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She chewed on her lip. “It was raining. We were running through the mall when Josh fell into some kind of ditch. It was a really odd place for a hole, come to think of it.”

“Then what?” Mulder urged.

“I think he hurt himself because he screamed and couldn’t get up. Then I saw them. There were three of them, well, if you count whoever they were burying.”

“Three?” This was a surprise to Mulder. “Can you describe them?” 

She shook her head. “It was pretty dark, but- there were definitely three. The dead one, and a man, and I think a girl? She was much smaller than the guy.”

_ Huh, _ Mulder thought. A third? Edmund and Mrs. Peacock were the only two who had escaped Home. Had they picked up an accomplice along the way?

“Then the man chased me. He was huge, like… like some kind of caveman. He grabbed me and started hitting me, and I just dropped to the ground.”

“He left you alone after that?” Mulder was surprised.

“Well, I played dead,” she explained. “I used to camp a lot when I was a kid and my dad always said if some large animal attacked- like a bear or something- you’re supposed to play dead. I guess I just reacted.”

Mulder was impressed, but not altogether surprised. The animalistic behavior of the Peacock men wasn’t unfamiliar to him. “You did the right thing. It probably saved your life.”

“Poor Josh,” she said miserably.

“I know this is hard, but… did you happen to see anything else?”

“The big guy, he raised up the shovel and…” she struggled to finish. “He did it. He killed him.”

Mulder nodded. “You’ve been very helpful, Nicole. Thank you.”

“You’re going to find them, right?” she asked. “Please tell me those wackos won’t be roaming the streets.”

"We’ll find them.” He almost added _ I promise, _ but he didn’t make those kinds of promises anymore.

  
  
  
  
  
  


QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

SCIENTIFIC RESPONSE AND ANALYSIS LABORATORY

10:47 AM

Scully stood in front of the gurney Janine had rolled into the autopsy bay. She flipped open the case file, and studied the genetic markers and other information gathered on the infant to use for comparison. The tarp was covering the victim completely and she was having trouble beginning the procedure. It was Mrs. Peacock, surely, but she wasn’t prepared to be confronted by her again.

_ I can tell you don’t have no children. Maybe one day you’ll learn the pride… the love. _

The woman had been crazy, and stubborn, but Scully had never doubted that she loved those lumbering beasts she called sons. She loved them fiercely. She would have died for them if she could and, looking at her now, perhaps she had.

Scully lifted the tarp and set it aside, taking in the sight. Mrs. Peacock didn’t look so much like a person as she did an array of half-limbs jumbled together inside a floral nightgown. Her face was just as terrifying as it ever was, contorted in death, and her eyes were open.

Staring directly at Scully.

Scully shuddered and moved to the opposite side of the table where she didn’t feel the cold glare of the dead woman. She reached for her scissors, anxious to get this over with as soon as possible. 

Just as she’d begun to cut the dress off, Janine poked her head into the bay. 

“Dr. Scully, there’s a student out here that would like to observe. Can I send her in?”

She hesitated but maybe having a student present would make this all feel less personal. “Sure, I could use a hand.”

A young woman entered the bay, immediately pulling a lab coat off the rack and suiting up. Scully recognized her as the same student who’d observed the infant autopsy yesterday.

“Karen, right?” Scully asked. 

The girl nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate the opportunity to help.” She approached the body and couldn’t stop herself from recoiling. First the infant, now this. Karen had certainly had an eventful couple of days worth of instruction. 

Thinking of the infant brought forth images of dead children that flashed behind Scully’s closed eyes, and her hand instinctively went to her abdomen. Karen noticed.

“Are you all right, Dr. Scully?” she asked.

“I’m fine, it’s just… I knew this victim.” Karen looked surprised. “Not personally, just from a prior case. Years and years ago. It’s just bringing up old memories, and feelings…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s okay.” 

Scully took a deep breath, steeling herself. “You’re looking at a woman who has been through an inordinate amount of pain and suffering in her life,” Scully explained.

“What… happened to her?” Karen asked.

“Well, the defects you see are the result of years and years of ancestral inbreeding. On top of that she was in a horrible car accident years ago and didn’t receive proper medical care. Add malnutrition, lack of exposure to sunlight, immobility.” Scully shook her head. “It’s a miracle her body withstood all of that.” She’d never properly appreciated what a survivor Mrs. Peacock actually was. Had been.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Karen said. 

Scully raised an eyebrow. “And you probably won’t again. Are you ready to start?” Karen nodded.

Scully proceeded with the examination, and offered the scalpel to Karen at one point. The young woman politely declined, preferring to observe. 

“Examination shows signs the victim has recently given birth,” she said into her recorder after several minutes. “I’m certain the DNA of the victim will match the infant’s when analyzed.”

The examination indicated that Mrs. Peacock had given birth many, many times. It was impossible to know how many, but the thought of any number of children suffering the same fate as the one she’d seen yesterday made Scully short of breath again.

She clicked off the recorder and sighed, her eyelids heavy. Again, her hand moved down protectively to her stomach. 

“I’m sorry, I’m usually a lot more… together than this,” she apologized. She wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt a desire to tell this random student her troubles but it occurred to her an explanation for why she had seemed to fall apart during two autopsies was probably in order. “I’m pregnant myself, actually. So this case is getting a bit under my skin.”

Karen nodded in understanding. 

“I’ve been doing this for twenty five years, give or take. These are the ones that stick with you no matter how long you’ve done it or how thick-skinned you are.”

They were quiet for a moment as Scully started closing up the body.

“Is this… your first baby?” Karen asked shyly. 

“No,” Scully answered. She didn’t really feel the need to lie or be evasive, but she also didn’t want to overexplain. “I have a son, but he’s almost grown.” She smiled. “This wasn’t really… planned. It’s been a long time since I’ve done the baby thing. I’m not as young as I was the first time around.” She leaned close to address a particularly stubborn stitch.

“I don’t know a thing about babies,” Karen admitted. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be a great mom.”

Scully looked up, taken aback. The girl was smiling at her, embarrassed. “I mean, you know. You’re a great teacher, and everything.”

Scully smiled back. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

The women enjoyed the moment, which was shortly interrupted by a knock at the door. Mulder peeked his head inside. 

“Hi,” Scully said.

_ “ _What’s up, Doc?” he greeted, entering the bay with two cups of coffee.

“This is Karen,” she gestured. “Karen, this is my…” she searched for a word, “...Mulder.”

“I’m her Mulder,” he said, handing Scully a cup. “Nice to meet you.” He gave Scully a peck on her cheek and she leaned into it. Life was too short to care about potential unprofessionalism anymore.

“Yours is decaf too, right?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course,” he replied, sipping his own, shooting a surreptitious glance at Karen. She smiled back at him.

“Just finished up the autopsy on Mrs. Peacock. She was definitely the one who gave birth to that child.”

“She gave birth to _ a _ child, that’s for sure,” he agreed.

“What do you mean?”

“I interviewed the eyewitness, the survivor from last night. Are you ready for this?” he asked, and she nodded. “There’s a third party involved. A woman. And I’m thinking it might be another Peacock.”

“What makes you think so?”

He shrugged. “Call it a Mulder hunch. The Peacocks aren’t going to let anyone in their inner circle who isn’t in the family. My guess is a daughter. Or sister?” He turned to Karen and whispered forcefully. “It’s hard to tell with this group.”

“So, you’re saying…” Scully asked.

“I’m saying there’s another breeder, so to speak, in the Peacock family now. I wouldn’t be surprised if more bodies turn up on more sides of roads, unfortunately.”

Scully sighed. “Well, now we know there are two suspects we’re looking for, not just Edmund. I’ll finish up here, why don’t you call up Sheriff Taylor, keep her apprised. Then can we go eat? I’m starving.”

“She gets mean when she’s hungry,” he said out of the side of his mouth, thoroughly charming her young trainee. Scully shooed him away and the two women finished closing and covering Mrs. Peacock. As she lifted the tarp over the dead woman’s ghoulish features, she allowed herself to believe she’d never have to lay eyes upon that face again.

  
  
  
  


TAYLOR RESIDENCE

ANNANDALE, VA

7:42 PM

  
  


Sheriff Elise Taylor pulled dinosaur pajamas over her son’s head and tickled his belly. His eyes sparkled with delight as he giggled and declared proudly, “Jammies!”

“That’s right, it’s night-night time,” Taylor said. “Let’s get under the covers.”

The child obeyed, limbs stomping heavily across the floor to the bed, growling in his best dinosaur impression. She’d been a parent for nearly three years and was enjoying every moment the harsh reality of her work hadn’t stolen away.

After an indeterminate amount of songs and stories she trudged into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.

“Was it Humpty Dumpty this time, or Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?” her husband Eric asked. 

“I’ll take Humpty Dumpty a dozen times over Christmas songs. It’s almost May, this is getting ridiculous,” she replied.

He chuckled as she crawled over on top of him and gave him a kiss. “How was your day?” she asked.

“Plenty of Rudolph,” he admitted. “You?”

She sighed. “We think we found the ones who killed my aunt and uncle,” she said. “There was another murder, and they seem to have resurfaced.”

“Wow,” he replied softly. “Who are they?”

“It’s pretty gruesome,” she warned. “Do you really want to know?”

“I’ve been potty training all day, I can handle gruesome,” he assured her.

“Well.” She sighed again. “It’s a family of killer inbreds. There seems to be no method to their madness, no end to their moral deficiency. They murder whoever stands in the way of continuing their bloodline, and they’re still out there, running free.”

Eric was silent for a moment. “You weren’t kidding,” he responded softly. She put her arm across his chest and tucked in. Out there, it was dangerous and murderous and nightmarish but here, in their home, it was safe. A respite.

“Turn out the light, okay?” she mumbled. “Talk to me about potty training instead.”

He did, until she drifted off to sleep, and soon he followed. Neither of them saw the pair of dull, misshapen eyes peering at them through the window.


	4. Act Four

ACT FOUR

Scully lay warm in the cocoon of Mulder, legs entwined, his soft breathing against her neck. It was exactly the way she wanted it, what she’d missed for so long. This place was their sanctuary, and in spite of any past disturbances she felt safe here. 

She was with him. Home was wherever he was.

After a full day of classes and everything going on with the Peacock case, they’d both fallen into bed, exhausted. Mulder snored softly as she hovered between sleep and wakefulness, but then her eyes flickered open as she felt a flutter deep within. Her hand shot to the source, and even though she knew it was far too early for Mulder to feel anything she took his hand and moved it there. 

“Mulder!” she hissed in his ear. 

“Mmm…?” he mumbled sleepily. He slept so deeply lately and she was grateful. It meant he was content and a sleeping Mulder meant a happy Scully. 

“I felt something.”

“Oh yeah?” Wide awake now, he shifted in the bed, their fingers tangling together. “I can’t feel anything.”

“It’s too early for you,” she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I woke you.”

“No, I want you to wake me. For everything.” He never tired of making it clear he didn’t plan to miss a thing this time around.

“Wow,” she whispered. “It’s the first time this feels real, Mulder.” She held his hand in hers, thriving in his warmth. “It’s so strange… the tests, the bloodwork. All of the science telling me it’s real but I didn’t actually believe it until this very moment.”

“You’ve come a long way, baby,” he growled into her ear, kissing behind it. He was right, she had. They both had.

He hooked his leg around hers and hummed into her neck, a proposition. She accepted, turning around to face him in the dark, and their lips met with the intensity they’d both been bottling up for the past twenty four hours. Her fingernails dug deeply into his scalp as he began to unbutton her blue silk pajama top, and she could feel him hardening against her leg when to their very great frustration the telephone rang.

“God_ damnit_,” Mulder seethed, again, as Scully closed her eyes and laughed. 

“We can’t catch a break,” she murmured. He rolled over and picked up the receiver to the landline, a remnant of Mulder’s intermittent paranoia that had remained in the house. She still enjoyed the simplicity of it.

“Hello?” he grumbled into the receiver. He turned to Scully and mouthed the word _ Skinner. _She sat up, alarmed. “We’ll be right there, sir.”

“What happened?” she asked as he hung up.

“There was a home invasion at Sheriff Taylor’s residence,” he said. “Skinner said it’s the Peacocks.”

  
  


TAYLOR RESIDENCE

ANNANDALE, VA

10:42 PM

Mulder and Scully pulled up to the residence in his silver Mustang, passing an abandoned Cadillac in the driveway. The doors were flung open and as they got out of their own car he could hear the strains of Del Shannon’s “Runaway” blaring from the car stereo. The front right headlight was missing.

A half dozen cop cars were parked outside, their lights flickering in blue and red, and there were several terrifying moments when they both feared the worst. Twenty years ago when he and Scully had come upon Deputy Paster sitting on the porch steps of Sheriff Andy Taylor’s home, a cigarette trembling between his fingers, they’d known they were in for something horrific. 

But it wasn’t the same as last time. Thankfully, no one had been hurt, at least not badly. Mulder breathed an enormous sigh of relief as they stepped inside to see Elise Taylor holding a toddler close to her chest, her husband next to her. He was clutching his arm and had some cuts on his face.

“What happened?” Mulder asked. Scully locked eyes with the child and couldn’t look away.

“They were here, inside the house,” Taylor explained. “Edmund Peacock and a younger woman. He came into our bedroom like he planned to attack us but I fired my weapon, hit him in the shoulder. He came at Eric and scratched and clawed at him like some kind of beast, but he quickly backed off, probably because of his wound. I had to get to Teddy, I had to, so… he got away.” She shook her head, ashamed. “I found the woman in his room,” she said, nuzzling the boy with her cheek, “but she was just staring at him while he slept. I aimed my weapon at her and told her to put her hands up.”

Taylor stroked the child’s head. He appeared relatively calm. “I attempted to take her into custody but she ran, and… I couldn’t fire, I don’t know why. I just couldn’t do it.”

“So they both just left?” Mulder asked.

Taylor nodded. “I’d left the evidence bag in the kitchen. She had it in her hand,” she said, looking directly at Mulder. “It’s almost as if... that’s all she came for.”

Scully turned to Mulder. “How did they know about that?”

“They must have followed you home from the crime scene,” Mulder reasoned. “You were talking about running the headlight through the database.”

“Running away doesn’t sound like the Peacock’s M.O.,” Scully pointed out. “Kill or be killed is more their style.”

“When she ran, she dropped it,” Taylor added. “So they might come back. I’ve arranged for a deputy to stay outside the house just in case. They must have escaped on foot, so a mile perimeter is being set up as we speak.”

Mulder nodded, touching Scully’s arm, and gently led her away from the family under the guise of checking out the crime scene. “Something about this whole thing feels odd to me,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“This move feels calculated, intentional. The younger Peacock… she never made a move to harm anyone, she just came for the evidence.”

“Edmund certainly didn’t,” Scully pointed out.

“Well, right, we know his M.O. already. But maybe it isn’t hers. Maybe she’s protecting her family just like Edmund is, only in a different way.”

“Without the violence, you mean.”

He nodded. “If Edmund weren’t with her, maybe no one would have been hurt.”

“But Mulder,” she began, and he smiled at their predictable dance, “the Peacocks have behaved like predators in every scenario we’ve seen them in. That behavior must be all she knows. To break free from that…” she paused, thoughtful.

“Is it possible for genetic defects to skip a generation?” he asked.

“I suppose so,” she mused. “Certain autosome conditions are dominant and certain ones are recessive. It’s really difficult to tell which ones are automatically passed down and which aren’t. If a condition is present on an X chromosome, it’s likely recessive and may not be passed down to a female. But it’s highly unlikely she didn’t inherit the same dominant disorders as her parents.”

“The physical ones, sure. But intelligence? Violent, predatory behavior? Can these things be passed down as well?” 

“Do you really want to have a debate on nature versus nurture right here in the Sheriff’s living room?” she asked, knowing the answer.

Mulder grinned. “In this case, both nature and nurture would be the same. Yet, here we are, witnessing behavior in direct contradiction to both.”

Scully looked thoughtful. 

“Maybe this young Peacock daughter is helping to answer that question for us,” he continued. “Years and years of ancestral inbreeding don’t necessarily have to determine what kind of person you are, one would hope.”

She made a face, eyes wide. “What about _ Game of Thrones_?”

Mulder grinned, and although thoughts of their favorite Sunday night routine lightened the mood, they still had a job to do. “Scully, that’s fiction. Let’s focus here.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, I need to believe that’s true. The alternative is just too depressing.”

He nodded, satisfied. “We need to find these two, and fast. If the daughter is truly trying to stop the violence, she’s on her own. Edmund is essentially an animal. There’s no telling what he’s capable of.”

Scully nodded and they made to leave. As they passed the Taylor family, Mulder felt a pang come over him of a familiar protective nature. He put his arm around Scully, pulling her close as they walked to their car. She didn’t pull away.

***

  
Daisy Peacock watched the FBI agents get out of their car and enter the Sheriff’s house. Mother had told her about them long ago; the ones who killed Sherman and George. Tall, lanky guy, and the short woman with red hair. They’d never left Mother’s mind, and had weaved their way into Daisy’s as well over time, like an earworm. And now here they were, right in front of her, in the flesh.

She knew once Father saw them he’d be after them. Revenge was indeed a human characteristic, but when paired with her father’s animalistic rage she was well aware that things would end badly for the two agents.

Edmund grunted, pointing to the agents’ car, and before she could stop him he was jimmying the lock of the trunk with an army knife he kept in his pocket. She hissed at him “_Stop! _” but all the cops had gone inside. There was no one around to see them, at least at the moment. 

He succeeded in opening the trunk and climbed inside, motioning for her to join him. She shook her head, hesitating at first. But his eyes were terrifying, threatening. She obeyed, climbing into the trunk beside him and pulling it shut. She could hear his raspy breath in her ear as they lay there in the darkness, waiting.

  
  


THE UNREMARKABLE HOUSE

FARRS CORNER, VA

12:04 AM

Mulder pulled the Mustang up to the front of the house and they entered, exhausted. The screen door closed behind them and Mulder yawned widely. Daggoo lifted his head from his perch on the sofa then laid back down.

“I’ve gotten far too used to a teacher’s schedule,” Scully said wearily. “These late nights are taking a toll on me.”

“It’s a little fun though, isn’t it?” Mulder remarked. “Doing this again together? Kind of like old times.”

“Yeah, I forgot how much I missed brutal infanticide,” she said wryly. “I’m not sure how cut out for this I am anymore, to be honest, Mulder.”

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Maybe ‘fun’ wasn’t the most appropriate word to use. But I just mean the part where I get to spend all this time with you.”

“That I can agree with,” she said. “I feel a little guilty coming home while the Peacocks are still roaming around out there, though.”

“The police are on it for now,” Mulder assured her. “Let’s let them do their jobs and hopefully they’ll turn up something soon.”

She smiled and closed her eyes, holding him close. “I’m going to bed. You coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a bit.” 

She released him and headed up the stairs. Before she went into the bedroom she paused at the door of the soon-to-be-nursery, and moved her hand to her belly. It was still so early they hadn’t done much yet, but there were some boxes with baby clothes from one of her old doctor friends stacked in the corner, and Mulder had excitedly built a crib a week after he’d learned the news. Other than that it was mostly empty. She smiled at the promise, the potential that a simple room held for their future.

She changed into her pajamas and crawled back into bed, breathing in Mulder’s scent on the sheets. She’d only been sleeping in their bed again for a few weeks but the indentation her body had made over the years was back, and she sunk into it gratefully. After a few minutes Mulder climbed into bed with her, and she heard the familiar sound of a service weapon settling onto the nightstand next to him.

***

It might have been the pregnancy, but Mulder noticed Scully slept lighter these days. He suspected it was her body subconsciously preparing her for the nights of sleeplessness that would soon follow once the baby arrived. She’d warned him on multiple occasions, remembering those nights with William all too well.

In any event, he awoke to her urgent whispers of “_Mulder!” _ and he sat bolt upright in bed, listening carefully. 

“There’s someone in the house!” she hissed. He listened, and she was right; there was definitely someone moving around downstairs.

Daggoo was the worst kind of guard dog, as he often slept like a rock. Mulder was certain if dogs could suffer from narcolepsy, their dog would be a prime example. So it didn’t surprise him in the least that there were no warning barks coming from below.

He reached for the gun and rolled out of bed, creeping toward the door, which was ajar. Just as he was about to peer out, they heard Daggoo barking.

“Stay here!” Mulder commanded, throwing the door open and dashing out into the hallway. He walked swiftly down the hall with his back to the wall, holding his weapon out in front of him. He heard Daggoo’s barking suddenly turn into loud yelping and fear for the tiny dog’s life jolted up his spine.

When he reached the ground floor he saw Edmund Peacock standing in the center of the living room, his macabre face contorted in rage, enormous twisted hands wrapped around the dog’s neck. Daggoo whined pitifully and Mulder’s protective nature flared up in fervor.

“_Hey_!” Mulder commanded with lethal intensity, aiming the gun at Edmund. “Put. Down. My _ fucking dog!_” 

Edmund didn’t. Daggoo’s whine turned into another yelp and a single shot rang out from Mulder’s weapon, loud and true. Edmund collapsed to the floor, a bullet hole between his eyes, as Daggoo scampered from his grasp and ran up the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him.

“Scully!” Mulder yelled, looking back over his shoulder. He didn’t hear her respond so he made for the stairs. “_Scully_!” he shouted, more panicked.

“Put your hands up,” he heard her saying to someone upstairs. He took the steps two at a time.

***

Typically, she might balk at Mulder’s male urge to shield her, keep her safe. But she was far more reticent on the topic since the pregnancy. She had another life inside her he could speak for now, one that he had every right to want to protect.

They had two guns in the house, but the second one was locked downstairs in a safe. As she heard the shot ring out she wished it wasn’t. Someone was downstairs, she had a feeling who it might be, and Mulder had fired his weapon. 

She threw the covers off and as she entered the hall she saw movement in the nursery. She heard Mulder shouting her name but remained silent so as not to reveal her position to the second intruder. She reached for Mulder’s baseball bat which leaned against their door and gripped it tightly.

She crept down the hall silently and peered around the door jamb to see a young woman standing in the nursery. Her back was turned and she just stood there, seemingly oblivious to everything happening downstairs. Scully couldn’t see her face but she saw long, tangled, stringy hair cascading down her back. Her clothes were grungy and tattered.

“Put your hands up,” Scully said as she rounded the corner. She held the bat at the ready. “Now! Up!”

The young woman turned around slowly, and her face was an unfortunate jumble of features. But her eyes had soul, and she cocked her head inquisitively. For a moment it made Scully think of Daggoo, so animal-like was the action.

“You shot my father?” she asked calmly. Scully was surprised at the composure she had, and the clarity with which she spoke. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected, but this wasn’t it.

“You are trespassing in our home. We had every right,” she said evenly. Mulder rounded the corner and raised his weapon, aiming it at the woman.

“Your home,” she said quietly. “It’s nice here. I like it.”

Scully glanced back at Mulder, then peered at the woman more closely. For the first time she allowed herself to see an actual person, a teenager, practically. She wasn’t frightened, or defensive. She wasn’t poised to attack. She was perfectly calm and rational.

“Why are you here? What do you want from us?” Scully asked.

“I don’t want anything from you,” she said. “Father does what he wants. And he’s all I have.”

“What’s your name?” Scully asked her. The girl didn’t answer for a moment but then looked up, and the two women locked eyes.

“Daisy.”

“What are you doing standing in this room, Daisy? Why are you up here?”

“All I want is what everyone wants,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Scully. Then she looked at her. “I want what you have.”

“You have a family already,” Mulder said. _ Had, at least, _was the unspoken part.

“I hate my family.”

It was sad, not angry. She was perfectly aware she had no one left now. Suddenly everything made sense. Daisy hadn’t wanted what her family had wanted for her. She hadn’t wanted to continue the Peacock bloodline. 

Scully wondered how far her parents had gone to produce an heir. “Daisy, did your father ever... hurt you? Did he ever do anything to you against your will?”

Scully saw tears forming in the young woman’s eyes, which she quickly wiped away. “Aren’t you gonna take me to jail or something? Why do you care?”

“I want to know.”

Daisy looked hesitant, like this was some kind of trap. Scully knew the young woman was in trouble, although how much, she wasn’t certain. Was she looking at a murderer? Or just the daughter of one?

Scully lowered the bat and looked at her. “Have you ever given birth to a child, Daisy?”

Daisy finally shook her head. “They wanted me to. When I was twelve it started. But I never got pregnant. Somethin’ wrong with me, I guess.”

“Where have you been this entire time? You and your family, where have you been living?”

Daisy shook her head. “I don’t remember ever having a home.”

Scully wondered if they’d been living in cars for twenty years. They were survivors, that much was certain. It was probably all Daisy had known her entire life.

“And your mother…? Did she have any babies?” Scully needed to know, as much as she didn’t really want to.

“Four,” Daisy answered. “They all died. Mother told me she was ashamed of me, that I couldn’t make a baby. But I didn’t mind. I was glad. I didn’t want that fate for my baby.” Her features hardened into resolve. “I don’t want it.” 

Scully glanced at Mulder, who had his weapon aimed at the last remaining member of the Peacock family, and for a brief moment Scully felt a pang of sympathy. One wrong move from anyone and their family would be extinct. 

Daisy turned away from Scully and placed her hand on the edge of the crib, fingering the wood softly. “All I want is this, what you have.”

Scully sensed Mulder lowering his weapon behind her, and she approached the young woman cautiously. “Did you ever kill anyone, Daisy?”

She looked up at Scully and shook her head no. Scully believed her.

“Then it’s over now, Daisy,” Scully said gently. “You need to come downstairs with us. Maybe you can finally go home, wherever that is.”

***

It had been a couple of days since the events that led to the capture of the last remaining Peacock. The murder of Josh Emerson was laid at the feet of Edmund and both Mulder and Scully felt justice had been served. 

Daisy Peacock was taken into protective custody. Accomplice, obstruction, and trespassing charges were certainly forthcoming but Mulder and Scully remained steadfast that she’d been a victim and intended to testify as much. Her fate remained uncertain.

The crickets chirped and the lawn still smelled of the recent showers, but tonight the moon shone brightly, surrounded by a telltale white ring that meant the rain wasn’t finished with them quite yet. 

Scully sat next to Mulder on their front porch swing, her legs draped over his lap, enjoying the peace and quiet. His arm was around her shoulders, fingers mindlessly combing her hair. 

They hadn’t batted an eye as Edmund Peacock’s body was removed from the premises. No one would ever quite understand, but they’d certainly seen their share of deaths occurring a little too close to home.

“Do you think Daisy could one day continue the Peacock bloodline?” Mulder asked, fingers gently tracing circles on her shoulder. He set down the book he’d been reading and adjusted his glasses.

Scully shrugged. “Miracles can happen, as you and I can attest.”

“If she does, it won’t be with another Peacock, at least,” Mulder said. 

“This was bound to happen sooner or later,” Scully pointed out. “If they kept having children, one would turn out to be an anomaly. They spent their entire lives wanting to protect their family, their home. Sooner or later someone would want out.” She looked thoughtful. “Daisy was the first to identify what was happening for what it was: abuse. She wanted to break that cycle. I hope she can, truly.”

They were quiet for a minute, just enjoying the nighttime sounds and cool air. “You never did tell me what Mrs. Peacock said to you, Scully,” Mulder said suddenly. “All those years ago.”

Scully considered. “She said... she could tell I didn’t have any children,” she said, remembering. “She told me that if I did, I’d understand.”

Mulder took this in. “And do you?”

She shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “I don’t. Maybe I just expect more from my children. That I would be proud of them for their choices, not just because of where they came from. Maybe I expect them to know right from wrong, regardless of their bloodline.”

Mulder thought about that, of the fear they’d both felt when they believed even for a moment their son wasn’t who they thought he was. That he had the blood of the most evil man they knew coursing through his veins. They were certain it couldn’t be true, and neither believed it, but perhaps a sliver of doubt would always be there. And Mulder had that very same blood in him, after all. Perhaps Scully was right.

“I know you’re thinking about our son,” he said gently. “And whatever the truth is, it’s no concern of mine. Wherever he is, whoever he is… he has you with him, always. And we should be proud.”

She turned to look up at him and her eyes thanked him for always knowing exactly what to say. 

“And this little one,” he added, his hand securely against her abdomen, “with my endless imagination and your unyielding rationality, is never going to get a damn thing done.”

She laughed, her hand against his stubble, pulling him down for a kiss. The swing creaked as she shifted her body on top of his.

“Well, I think maybe you and I can finally get something done,” she said into his ear as she nibbled his earlobe.

“Out here?” he asked. “You don’t want to go inside, lock the doors?”

She shook her head, smiling. “We’ll be fine, Mulder. It’s like Mayberry out here.”

He didn’t agree, but he felt as safe as she did as she crossed both arms in front of her waist, swiftly removing her shirt and tossing it onto the porch behind her. She was wearing a black lacy bra and he wondered how she’d possibly found the wherewithal to put it on in all the commotion.

“Doctor Scully, is this new? I’ve never seen it before.” He dragged the back of his finger along the curve of her breast.

“Yes,” she responded, “and I’ve decided I’m wearing it as much as possible before I can’t fit into it anymore.”

“You won’t get any objections from me on that front.”

She leaned forward and took his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently. The porch swing squeaked and he could feel her lips curve up into a smile as she helped him out of his pants and situated herself on his lap.

“Last time we did this the swing broke,” he reminded her.

She shrugged. “I think your handyman skills have improved, Mulder. Let’s test them out.”

She moved her hips against him, slowly, and he felt himself spring to attention beneath her. Her hand moved down into his boxers and he groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his length.

“Mayberry, huh?” he growled. “I don’t remember this scene.”

“You said you’d like to live there, Mulder,” she reminded him. She smiled and gave his lip a hard bite and he exhaled sharply, moving her hair out of her face. 

“I changed my mind. I like it here just fine.”

“Good,” she whispered huskily. She removed the glasses from his face and set them aside. “Now shut up, Professor.”

He laughed as she wrapped herself around him and at the moment she joined them together he gazed at her body in awe, all fifty four years of it, the body that brought him endless pleasure, the body that housed his child. 

The body that was his home.

He smiled as the porch swing creaked.

_ Home sweet home. _

_   
THE END _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is dedicated to the fab collab of Glen Morgan & James Wong. Thanks for everything you guys did for The X-Files, and particularly "Home," my all-time favorite episode. When we conceived of this season I knew I wanted to take a swing at it, and I truly hope I did it justice. 
> 
> Artwork is by admiralty. You can purchase [here](https://www.redbubble.com/people/x-filesseason12/works/40979526-x-files-season-12-novam-domum?asc=u) (all proceeds are being donated to Planned Parenthood.)
> 
> Thanks for reading Episode One! We'll be back Friday, Sep 27 at 9:00 EST with Episode Two. Follow us @Season12XF on Twitter for updates and info!
> 
> Feedback is ALWAYS welcomed and appreciated! -a;)


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